Footfalls echo in the memory
by Ayla Pascal
Summary: Snape and Harry lose their memories of the past ten years. Snape/Harry. References to past Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione and Ron/Pansy.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes: **Originally written for snarry_holidays for dandru. Thank you to my beta aigooism! Any mistakes remaining are all my own. Also, a couple of small scenes were edited to bring the rating down a smidge. *g*

**Footfalls in the memory: Part I**

Harry woke up feeling like every muscle in his body was aching; it felt like he had run a marathon the previous night. He groaned slightly as he sat up and swung his legs out of bed. The room tilted dizzily around him as he opened his eyes. As his vision focused, Harry suddenly realised that he had no clue where he was. He didn't think that he'd had too much to drink the night before. As far as he could remember, he had gone to bed at the normal time, said good night to Ron and then drawn the curtains around his bed.

Except, now, there were no curtains around his bed. His bed seemed to have changed from the four-poster single bed he was supposed to have to a double bed. In fact, the entire room had changed. It was no longer the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. Instead, it seemed like the master bedroom of an apartment. There was bright light coming out from the edges of the curtains.

Harry could feel his body tense. Looking around, he could see his wand lying on the bedside table. Leaning over, Harry grabbed it and almost immediately, he felt better. This could be a Death Eater plot or a plot belonging to some sort of crazed fan. Over the past few years, Harry had seen some of the fan letters that people sent. He wouldn't be surprised if some crazed witch or wizard had seen fit to kidnap him.

There was a sudden sound from beside him.

Harry twisted around and stared. There was somebody else on the bed. He had no clue how he had managed to miss the fact that he was sleeping next to somebody else, but obviously he had. He suspected that it might have something to do with his pounding headache.

Gingerly, Harry stood up, all the while keeping an eye on the person sleeping on the bed. He couldn't tell who it was because they had their back to him. The only thing he could tell was that the person had shoulder-length black hair that trailed over the pillow. "Who are you?" he said loudly, keeping his wand trained on the person.

The person visibly stiffened. In what seemed like less than the blink of an eye, the person had lunged over, grabbed a wand that was lying on the opposite bedside table. Harry grimaced. He had never noticed the other wand. The person stood up and whirled around to face Harry.

Harry's mouth dropped open. It was Snape. Horrifyingly, he seemed to be clad in only boxers. It was only then that Harry realised that he was only wearing boxers as well. He could feel himself blushing.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Snape asked icily. His eyes swept around the room. "What have you done?'

"What have I done?" Harry spluttered.

Snape's eyes narrowed and it seemed to Harry that he was being scrutinised. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

"What?"

Snape made a head motion towards a mirror that was set up in front of the cupboard. Harry frowned. He had no idea why Snape wanted him to look at a mirror. "For once in your life, just follow the instructions," Snape said irritably. There was a strange note in his voice.

Slowly, Harry walked to the mirror. The first thing he noticed was that the boxers concealed even less than he had first thought. Then he looked up at his face and his mouth dropped open. It looked like he had aged five years overnight. He was slightly taller and broader about the shoulders. His face had lengthened slightly. He also had stubble on his cheeks. "What?" he exclaimed.

"Experimenting with potions again?" Snape said nastily. From his tone of his voice, Harry suspected he had a sneer on his face. "Or have you been stupid enough to eat something given to you by the Weasley twins?"

"I haven't!" Harry protested. He certainly hadn't done this to himself, and he was almost positive that he hadn't eaten anything by either Fred or George without double-checking for a long time. But there seemed to be an alarming fuzziness to his memory. As Harry turned around, something caught his eye. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the picture on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. "That..." he stammered. "That picture."

"What are you twittering about?" Snape snapped. He strode over, seemingly unembarrassed by his almost-nakedness.

Harry was almost amused to see Snape's eyes widen. "This is obviously some sort of sick joke," Snape said decisively. He picked up the photograph and dropped it in the ashes of the fireplace. Harry could see the surprised expressions of the people in the photo.

"Why?" Harry asked, frowning. "Why would anybody play such a trick?"

Snape picked up a small container on the mantelpiece. It seemed to be Floo powder. "I plan on finding out."

Harry shivered at the tone in Snape's voice. He pitied the person who had put them in this situation. He shifted slightly where he was standing. The spell that was used to make him older was certainly a good one. Now that Harry was more awake, he could feel minute changes in his body. His centre of balance was slightly different. He frowned. Now that he was closer to Snape, he could swear that Snape looked older as well. It wasn't as noticeable on Snape, but Harry thought that Snape had fewer wrinkles and grey hairs last time he had seen him. Not that Harry ever made it a habit of noticing what Snape looked like.

"_Incendio_!" Snape said, pointing his wand at the fireplace. As Harry watched, the little photograph depicting him and Snape together, with the little Snape kissing the little Harry, went up in flames. Their photographic selves made silent screaming faces as the flames licked around them and the photograph crumbled into ash. Snape had a rather gleeful expression on his face that Harry found disturbing. He lifted the box of Floo powder.

"Are we going to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"You imbecile, of course we are. This could be a trick by the Dark Lord."

Harry hesitated before speaking again. "Then, maybe, we should," he gestured downwards, "put on clothes."

Two bright spots of colour appeared in Snape's sallow cheeks. "Very well," he said and whirled around. "I shall change in there." He pointed towards what seemed like an adjoining bathroom.

Harry watched as Snape gathered some items of clothing into his arms and disappeared into the bathroom. After a few seconds, he went over to the closet and opened it. About half the clothes in the closet seemed to belong to him. They seemed to be his size and were in his favourite colours. Harry frowned. If this was some sort of joke, he couldn't see the point. If it was a plan by Voldemort, then it was an incredibly bad one.

Quickly, he pulled on a pair of trousers and a shirt, both of which fitted perfectly. About a minute later, Snape emerged, wearing robes buttoned up to his neck. Without a word, Snape strode towards the fireplace, took a pinch of the Floo powder and threw it down, saying sharply, "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts." He disappeared in a bright flash.

Harry wrinkled his nose. He didn't like the smell of Floo powder. It seemed to make a charcoal smell in the air that was quite unpleasant. With a sigh, he took his own pinch of glittery Floo powder and threw it down, being careful to not breathe in through his nose. "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts.

-***-

Harry coughed as he emerged from the fireplace in a cloud of ash. He had never gotten the hang of Floo travel. Everybody else seemed to get out with only a very slight dusting of ash but he seemed to have half the fireplace on him.

"Harry!"

Harry turned his head and could see Professor McGonagall standing there smiling cheerfully at him. "It's lovely to see you and Severus again," she said. "What brings you to my office?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Snape staring incredulously at McGonagall. One of Snape's hands was creeping towards the wand he had stashed in the belt of his robes.

"Uh, Professor," Harry ventured. "I think somebody might have played a trick on us."

"What that imbecile is trying to say," Snape broke in acerbically. "Is that we woke up this morning in the same bed, in what was obviously not either of our quarters. And we both seem to have been aged at least five years."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Is this some sort of practical joke?"

"That's what we're trying to say!" Harry burst out. "Professor, where's Ron and Hermione? Maybe they noticed something!"

"I presume they are in their home," McGonagall said, with an air of confusion. "Harry, why are you calling me Professor? I gave you permission to use my given name over five years ago."

Harry began to feel a strange sense of vertigo. "You're trying to tell us that we're in ... the future?" he spluttered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Snape snapped. He had his wand pulled out, pointed towards McGonagall. "This is obviously some sort of farce. I do not yet know who the perpetrators are, however, rest assured, we have not somehow travelled forward in time. That is impossible."

McGonagall snorted. "You're right in that, Severus. Now, I don't know what you two are going on about, but I suggest you go home. Perhaps you breathed in too many Potions fumes when you were working on your latest invention." She looked at Snape with a concerned expression. "Severus, you should rest." Turning around, McGonagall walked towards the door of the office.

"_Stupefy_!"

Harry gasped as McGonagall crumpled to the ground.

Snape pocketed his wand again and strode over to where she lay. "Seamless integration of features," he muttered as he knelt down to examine her face. "Polyjuice potion, perhaps."

"Perhaps she was telling the truth?" Harry ventured.

"Given the fact this concerns you, Potter," Snape said acidly, "it is infinitely more likely that this is a ploy by the Dark Lord."

"But why?" Harry asked. That was what he couldn't understand. There didn't seem to be any point to this ploy. It was confusing, certainly, however, if Voldemort had wanted him confused, he could have just waited until Harry sat his NEWTs.

Snape sighed irritably. "We will wait until she wakes up," he said, indicating at McGonagall's body. "Then we will find out our answers." As Harry watched, Snape drew his wand again and pointed it at her body. Ropes appeared out of the end and wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles, securing her in place.

Harry stared. He felt distinctly uncomfortable with this plan. The woman who was lying on the floor looked like McGonagall. She had acted like McGonagall. "What if somebody else comes in here before she wakes up?"

Snape's eyes gleamed. "I have already taken the precaution of locking the door."

Harry blinked.

Snape sighed heavily. "Did you never listen during Charms class, Potter?" he asked, sneering. "I locked the door using wandless magic."

"Why didn't you use wandless magic on her then?" Harry asked, pointing at McGonagall.

"Wandless magic works better on inanimate objects," Snape said shortly. He strode over to the desk and leaned on it.

On the floor, McGonagall stirred slightly. Her eyes opened. "What...?" she said slowly. "Severus? Harry? What just happened?"

Snape kept his wand pointed towards her. "Who are you?"

McGonagall had obviously just realised that she was tied up. She struggled against her bonds. "Severus, are you crazy?" she said, with a frown. "What on earth are you doing?"

"You are obviously not Minerva," Snape stated. "You are an imposter under Polyjuice Potion, likely a Death Eater."

McGonagall stared. "The last of the Death Eaters were captured over four years ago. Are you feeling all right, Severus?" She swivelled her head to look at Harry. "Harry, what are you just doing standing there? It's obvious that Severus isn't himself."

Harry took half a step forward and then stopped. "We woke up this morning ... like this," he said by means of explanation.

"Like what?" McGonagall exploded. Harry could see the furrows in her forehead deepening just like whenever she was furious.

"What Potter means is that we woke up in bed together this morning, over five years older than we should be," Snape said tersely. "We would like an explanation."

McGonagall's eyes widened. "Are you joking, Severus?" she spluttered. "You and Harry are married! That's why you were in the same bed together! You're scaring me with that behaviour. Now untie me!"

Harry gasped. What McGonagall said couldn't be true. It was ridiculous. He was seventeen, almost eighteen. He knew that perfectly well. Yesterday he had gone to classes as normal. He had played Quidditch as normal. He had fantasised about girls and thought about what it would be like to kiss Ginny. He couldn't be gay and he definitely couldn't be gay with Snape, of all people!

"You're sick," Snape said decisively. Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit offended. It was all right for him to be sickened by the idea, but did Snape have to be so obvious about it?

McGonagall closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. "Severus, look at the date on _The Daily Prophet_. It's on my desk."

Snape gestured for Harry to walk over to the desk. Harry walked over and scanned it. The desk was fairly messy so it took him a few seconds to locate the _Prophet_. When he did, the date jumped out at him almost immediately. Harry picked up the newspaper and brought it over to Snape.

Snape looked at it briefly. "This could be faked," he said.

"Severus," McGonagall said, sounding weary, "why would we fake this? What reason would I have to fake something like this?"

Harry bit his lip. McGonagall was making sense and that sickened him. Snape and him in a relationship? It was laughable. Snape hated him and Harry's own feelings towards Snape were less than positive at the best of times.

"The Dark Lord has nefarious plans at times. This could be one of them," Snape stated, but Harry could tell that he sounded doubtful.

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "You-Know-Who has been dead for almost ten years."

"He has?" Harry burst out. Reaching up, Harry felt his scar. It felt like a normal scar. There was no subtle burning sensation that he had been feeling for the past few months. "It isn't hurting!" he said in surprise.

"Because You-Know-Who is dead," McGonagall said patiently.

"Do not listen to her, Potter," Snape said icily. "She is trying to trick both of us."

Harry could hear McGonagall grind her teeth. It was a rather unpleasant sound. "I don't know," he said hesitantly. "It sounds like ... it could be the truth."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "You're trying to tell me that you believe this ludicrous story of us being lovers?"

"Well..." Harry said, trailing off. "I'm not sure."

Snape stared at him. "You're not _sure_?" he said incredulously. "What part of you believes that in any universe that I would ever be in a relationship with you?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, he didn't believe a word McGonagall was saying but on the other hand, it made a crazy sort of sense. "I guess," he said.

On the floor, McGonagall twisted around to stare at the door. Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't try anything," Snape snapped.

There was a scuffling noise from behind the door. Harry turned around and could see the doorhandle opening. "I thought the door was locked!" he protested as the door opened and several people stormed in, pointing wands at both him and Snape.

"Wandless magic," McGonagall said irritably. "I called for backup the moment I regained consciousness. You didn't believe that I could ever be taken off guard in my own office, did you?" She turned to the people who had come in. "Be careful with them. They seem to have some sort of amnesia."

One of the men pointed a wand at them both. The next thing Harry remembered was a bright flash of light and then blackness.

-***-

Harry stared. In front of him was a woman who had a passing resemblance to Hermione Granger. Except her hair was straight, whereas Hermione's hair was curly. And she looked as if she had been aged for about ten years. That's funny, a needling little voice inside his head pointed out, you and Snape look like you've been aged for about the same amount of time. Harry tried to stand up but he found his arms and legs immobilised. His throat closed up and he could hear his breath coming in pants.

The woman knelt in front of his chair. "Look at me, Harry," she ordered. "Calm down."

There was a note in her voice that made Harry turn his head. He stared into her eyes. They were wide and earnest. He realised that they even had the small green flecks Hermione's eyes had. "Who are you?" he snapped, glad that he could still speak. "Where am I? Why am I tied up?"

"We were afraid that there was some form of curse on you and Severus," the woman explained. She bit her lip. "I'm so sorry about this, Harry. I didn't want you to be restrained but when Severus woke up, he nearly took out two people. We were afraid that it was an adverse effect of the curse."

"What curse?" Harry exploded. "Who the hell are you?"

She looked sadly at him. "I'm Hermione. And you seem to have some form of amnesia inducing curse on you. We're still unsure whether that was the main intention of the curse or whether it was just a by-product."

Harry just stared at her. He had been beginning to believe McGonagall back in her office, but now he wasn't sure. "Untie me then," he said, through gritted teeth. "If you're really Hermione, you'd untie me."

He could see her muscles flex and then she leaned backwards and looked at him.

"You're a Death Eater, aren't you?" Harry said, a shiver running down his spine. "What'd you want with me? Why am I here?"

The woman took a step forward. Harry couldn't help but cringe as she lifted her wand up and waved it over him. To his surprise, he could feel the invisible restraints around him relax and disappear. "I trust you won't try to attack me," she said wryly. "I remember how you were at this age." There was a fond look in her eyes. "You weren't as unreasonable as Severus always claims you were."

Harry stood up. The world swam around him and he put his hand out on the chair to steady himself. Looking down, he suddenly realised that he was quite a bit higher off the ground than he normally was. It was probably some side effect of the curse, he decided. "Where's Snape?" he demanded. Somehow it felt like the right question to ask. Snape was the only person who he could trust. Harry almost laughed at that thought. But it was true.

"I'll take you to him," the woman said. She walked towards the door and pulled it open, holding it for him. "And I really am Hermione, you know."

-***-

The first thing Harry noticed when he walked into the room was that Snape seemed to be seated in a chair and restrained in a similar way. There was a table in this room. Upon it were piles of books and newspapers.

"Potter!" Snape said harshly as soon as Harry stepped in. His black eyes narrowed when he saw the woman step into the room. "What's she doing here?"

A part of Harry wanted to just leave Snape in the chair, restrained. After all, the git deserved it for all he had done. He sighed slowly. "Can you untie him?"

The woman shook her head. "There are magic dampening wards in that chair. He's already put two people in hospital. Sorry, Severus, but we can't let you go until you accept the fact that we're not lying to you."

Snape sneered. "I'm supposed to believe that I'm in a relationship with Potter?"

The woman strode over and picked up one of the newspapers. "I've given you proof," she said, sounding exasperated.

Curious, Harry walked over and took the newspaper from her fingers. It was dated several years in the future. Or, his mind amended, if the woman was telling the truth, it was dated around eight years in the past. The headline blared: Boy-Who-Lives moves in with former Death Eater. There was a picture of him and Snape on the cover. The Snape in the picture had his customary scowl on his face until the Harry in the picture poked him in the side. Then the picture Snape's expression softened until it was almost a smile. Harry had to admit that Snape didn't look half-bad like that. It made him look far less scary and took years off his age.

"Newspapers can be doctored. Pictures can be faked," Snape countered.

"What earthly reason do we have to be faking this?" the woman burst out.

"Then," Snape said, in a deceptively silky voice, "why don't you untie me?"

The woman stared. "I've already told you. So has Minerva. You put two of my best employees in hospital."

"Take me to Albus," Snape ordered, after a brief pause. "The only people I've seen so far are you, Minerva and your imbecilic employees." He sneered. "If you're really Hermione Granger, then you'll be able to take me to Albus."

An unreadable look flickered over the woman's face. "Albus is dead," she said quietly.

"What?" Harry burst out. He knew that Dumbledore was old, but he couldn't be dead? It was impossible. "How?"

Her face took on a guarded expression. "It was a long time ago. He died at the hands of a Death Eater."

Snape snorted. "A likely story," he snapped. "It is far more likely that this is an imbecilic Death Eater ploy to learn our secrets."

Harry let out a deep breath. It didn't seem like this was going anywhere. He kept on looking at the door, wondering if he could make a quick getaway. Except, if this really was a Death Eater plan, then the likelihood was slim that he could escape without his wand. If the woman was telling the truth, if she was really Hermione, then he didn't need to be running. "What if..." he said slowly.

The woman spun to stare at him. "I know that look, Harry," she said wryly. "You have an idea, don't you?"

"Snape can read your mind," Harry said quickly. "He can do that legi-thing."

Snape rolled his eyes. "It isn't mind reading," he said. "And it's called Legilimency."

Hermione hesitated. "It's possible. Would you believe us then, Severus?"

Snape was in the process of opening his mouth to answer when the door behind Harry opened. He spun around and saw McGonagall standing there with another person. "We can't take that risk," McGonagall said tightly. "Severus could do serious damage to your mind with his skills. Legilimency is a blunt instrument at best."

"Well spoken, for a Death Eater," Snape said, with a curl to his lip. "You almost sound like Minerva."

"Can you think of any other way for him to believe us?" the woman pointed out. "You knew him back then. Do you think he'll believe us? Even if we take him to see the new refurbished Diagon Alley or the Shrine of War Heroes?"

McGonagall pursed her lips, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. Finally, she turned to Snape. "I'm going to let you go. You may have your wand. You may use Legilimency on Hermione to determine the veracity of our words. I must warn you though, we have Aurors stationed outside."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Very well. I am skilled at Legilimency. If you are telling the truth, which I very much doubt, this should be a simple task and Miss Granger should feel no more than a pinch."

McGonagall drew her wand and waved it over Snape. She then walked over and handed him his wand. Harry watched with bated breath as Snape stood up and walked over. He lifted his wand and waved it over her head. Harry could feel bile rising in his throat as he remembered when Snape used to do this to him. He could still remember those detentions when Snape advanced towards him. He shivered.

The seconds seemed to crawl by when suddenly, Snape staggered back, his arm falling to his side. His face was ashen.

"Snape?" Harry asked.

Snape blinked at him, almost as if he didn't recognise who Harry was. He cleared his throat. "They're telling the truth," he managed to get out.

Harry stared. "What?"

"They're telling the truth," Snape repeated. "We're under some sort of amnesia curse. It's been ten years. We're apparently in some sort of..." his lip curled, "relationship." He turned away towards the wall.

Harry didn't know what to say. It sounded so fantastical. He had been suspicious while at McGonagall's office and while the woman ... while Hermione was talking to him. But he had never really let himself accept it as the truth. "Hermione?" he said quietly.

She gave him a tired smile and massaged her temples. "I never liked Legilimency much."

Harry closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that this was Hermione Granger. She was still obviously smart, but now she seemed to be more self-assured. Then again, he realised, it had been ten years. Ten years. It sounded like a lifetime. He would be in his mid-twenties now. And apparently married to Snape, his mind helpfully provided, but Harry quashed that thought. He could deal with the ramifications of that particular revelation later. Preferably never, he thought grimly.

"Well," McGonagall said briskly, after several moments of silence. "Now that you've both accepted the truth, we need to find out what happened and how to reverse it."

-***-

"I always liked your apartment," Hermione commented as they stepped into the apartment that he and Snape apparently shared together.

Harry stared at her. She seemed to have relaxed a bit now that they were out of the Ministry. It was as though she had let go of her guard and frankly, he thought that she seemed a bit more like the Hermione he knew.

"Sorry," Hermione said hastily as she stepped aside. Snape swept into the apartment after her. "It's just," she said, shaking her head slightly, "I was only here for dinner last week. You and Severus were so happy together." Involuntarily, Harry found himself staring at photos of himself and Snape up on the walls. The little pictures were staring at them quizzically. "Now look at you," she continued.

Harry had to admit that she had a point. Snape had walked halfway across the room and currently stood there, scowling, his arms crossed over his chest. It seemed as though he had chosen to stand as far as possible away from Harry.

There was an awkward silence. "I thought that you two could have a look around first," Hermione said.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "First?"

"Ah, yes," Hermione said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I hoped that looking around would help jog your memories, but the official sweep of the apartment will be undertaken by Ministry personnel. Anything suspicious will be bagged and tagged."

"So our presence here is useless?" Snape surmised his posture stiffening.

"I wouldn't say useless," Hermione hedged.

"I would," Snape said flatly. Harry took an involuntary step backwards as Snape stalked past him, his robes billowing behind him. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to leave."

Before Harry could help himself, he blurted out, "Where're you going?"

Snape spun around, his eyes glittering. "I hope you're not labouring under a misconception, Mr Potter."

Harry frowned. "What?"

Snape took a step forward, his eyes narrowing even further. "We are not in a relationship, Mr Potter. You have no right to know my whereabouts." Hermione opened her mouth, but Snape whirled on her. "Neither do you, Miss Granger," he snapped. "I have done nothing illegal." With that, he turned around and left.

"Well," Harry said, letting out a breath. "From that look on your face, I guess he mellowed out over the years, huh?"

A slight smile crossed her face. "Yeah," she agreed. "Just a little."

-***-

"So?" Harry demanded. "Did they find anything?" He had been told to wait outside his apartment while a brusque crew of Ministry Aurors had brushed past him and turned his apartment upside down. Harry didn't really care about the apartment itself. After all, he had no memory of ever living in it and there were all those creepy pictures of him and Snape on the walls, but he still cringed a bit when he heard the sound of the place being taken apart.

"No curse residue," Hermione said, walking over to where he was leaning against the wall. "There was something that was in one of the cauldrons. The cauldron seemed to have exploded, so they think that it might have been what caused the memory loss. They've taken some scrapings of what's left for testing."

Harry closed his eyes, resisting the urge to slide down the wall and rest his head on his knees. "So they haven't a clue," he surmised.

Hermione shrugged.

"Tell me," Harry said, after a pause. "I worked with Snape on potions?"

"Yeah," she said. "You were actually quite good."

Harry snorted.

"No really," she insisted. "You guys were great partners. Not just in potions." Harry was surprised when her eyes took on a dreamy expression.

"Stop," he said hastily. "I really don't want to think about Snape that way." He shuddered. The mental images the photographs in their apartment gave him were plenty. And the double bed they had woken up in. It was more than Harry ever wanted to know about his future. He had always thought that he would end up with Ginny with a couple of kids. To realise that he had ended up with his least favourite professor from Hogwarts. Well, it was a nightmare.

Hermione looked sympathetically over at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just look at you and I see the same person I've known for the past ten years." She reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get your memory back soon."

"I'm not sure I want it back," Harry muttered.

-***-

Harry stared around Diagon Alley. Hermione had wanted to take him out for lunch in the hope that something would trigger his memory. So far, nothing was helping though. He felt ... well, he felt like he had just travelled into the future. Everything was different. He could remember McGonagall saying something about how it had been refurbished; however, he had never expected something like this. "Is the street... wider?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "They widened it about six years back to make room for all the other shops. It was part of all the repairs done after the war." She tilted her head towards where the old entrance to Knockturn Alley. "That entrance was bricked up."

Harry just nodded. It was all a bit too much to take in. "So where are we going for lunch?"

She grinned at him. "I thought that I would take you to one of the new eateries. Lovegood Emporium. They have a fantastic mixture of foods from all over the world and everything is brought to you by Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

"Lovegood?" Harry repeated, incredulously. "As in Luna?"

Hermione gave a wry smile. "Turns out she wasn't so crazy after all. And those Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are quite cute."

Harry couldn't help wondering if everything else had changed so much. Maybe in the Muggle world, they would have flying cars or personal aeroplanes or any of the numerous gadgets that appeared on those science-fiction shows Dudley used to watch. He followed Hermione into a brightly decorated building that proclaimed itself Lovegood Emporium. Once inside, he couldn't help staring.

"It is a bit of an eyeful," Hermione whispered.

"You could say that again," Harry muttered.

The entire place was brimming with magic. Glittering candles hung from the ceilings. Stone angels on the sides of the walls blew cold air. "She got that idea from Muggle air-conditioning," Hermione explained. The food itself was brought to each table by cute little creatures with crumpled horns. Harry thought they looked something like a cross between a cat and a rabbit, except with a crumpled horn.

"Harry!" an enthusiastic voice exclaimed.

Harry turned his head. "Luna?" he said slowly. It was definitely Luna, looking practically the same as when he saw her last. Her hair was longer, her clothes were different, but she was basically the same person. There was a flower in her hair that sparkled as she moved.

"I heard you lost your memory," Luna said, her eyes widened. "That's unfortunate. But you'll get to try all my house specials again. You did so very much like them the first time."

"Er, thanks," Harry said awkwardly.

Luna beamed at them and led them both towards a corner booth. "Hermione, you know how everything works," she said. She then walked away, leaving them alone.

"This seems... like an interesting place," Harry said faintly.

"You do need to acclimatise," Hermione admitted. "But the food is fantastic. Wait till you try the quadruple stuffed dancing shrimp."

-***-

When Harry got back to his apartment, he found several half-packed bags standing in the living area. As he was staring around at the half-stripped bookshelf, Snape strode into the room. "So you're back," he said abruptly.

Harry wasn't sure what to say so he settled for the obvious. "I take it that you're moving out?"

Snape sneered. "Don't tell me you were looking forward to our domestic life together?"

Harry made a face. "Don't be ridiculous." He bit his lip. "Do we own the apartment?"

There was a flash of something across Snape's eyes that could have been a miniscule amount of respect, but it was gone before Harry could pinpoint it. "I made inquiries at the Ministry and apparently the apartment is paid off in full and is under both our names. I no longer wish to live here, but I am willing to sell my half to you. According to my accountant, we are both very wealthy from our potions work." Snape's lip curled. "Undoubtedly, most of the work was mine."

Harry glared. "Do you have to be so much of a bastard?" he burst out. "We're both in the same situation! It's not like I wanted this any more than you!"

Snape's face tightened. "I am well aware of that," he said stiffly. He swept past Harry and into the bedroom.

After a few seconds, Harry followed him. He watched as Snape pulled various items out of their wardrobe and proceeded to shove them into a suitcase. "How do you know what's yours?"

Snape turned around and rolled his eyes.

"Not the clothes," Harry said hastily. He pointed at the various knick-knacks lying around the room. They were all evidence of the life they had spent together. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of something that was almost regret. It was obvious from the evidence in the apartment that he and Snape were happy together. But now, because of a curse or accident or something, that was all gone. Of course, he didn't exactly want to continue a life of domestic bliss with Snape, but the feeling of slight sadness still remained. "How'd you know if those are yours or mine?"

"You can keep them," Snape said dismissively.

Harry wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure that he wanted them. "What about the Potions equipment?"

From the set of Snape's jaw, Harry could tell that the other man had already thought about this. "Since we are _partners_," Snape said, his lip curled, "I presume it would be _fair_ for me to take half the equipment."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with half of the Potions making equipment in the apartment, but it did seem quite fair to him. "Well," he said awkwardly. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." When Snape didn't reply, Harry walked slowly out of the door.

-***-

After some investigation, Harry found a bottle of red wine sitting in their fridge and a corkscrew sitting in the back of the pantry. With effort, he managed to get the bottle open. Grabbing a tumbler, he poured himself some wine. After his first sip, Harry could feel his face turning red. He spluttered and gagged slightly. "What on earth is this stuff?" he muttered, staring at the bottle. It was absolutely nothing like Butterbeer. From the label, Harry surmised that it was some sort of Muggle brand.

"You're drinking wine out of that?" Snape said incredulously, coming up behind him.

Harry felt a shiver slide down his back as he looked up. Somehow, it felt like he had done this a thousand times before. "So?" he snapped.

He watched as Snape walked over to the same cabinet he had managed to find his tumbler in. Snape extracted a wine glass and walked back over and sat down on the armchair across from Harry. Before Harry could say anything, Snape had poured himself a glass of wine as well. "A nice vintage," Snape said slowly, after a sip.

Harry stood up and placed his tumbler back onto the table with a little more force than necessary. Some of the wine sloshed over the side and onto the table. He ignored it. "It must be yours then," he snapped.

Snape shrugged and continued drinking his glass of wine.

-***-

Harry stared around the apartment. It looked surprisingly empty now that Snape had left. It wasn't as though he had wanted the other man to stay, but with Snape's things there, the apartment had looked lived in. Now that half the stuff had gone from the apartment, it looked rather sad and threadbare. With a sigh, Harry threw himself onto the couch and eyed the half-finished bottle of wine. Snape had managed to drink more than half the bottle before going back to his packing. It was obvious to Harry as he watched the other man sip the wine, that he wasn't the only one feeling out-of-sorts with this situation. For the first time, he wondered what it was like for Snape to wake up and realise that he had been married to one of his former students. Especially one that he had hated for so many years.

Harry reached for the bottle of wine and took a swig. He winced as he swallowed. He hoped that he didn't have a taste for this kind of stuff in this future. It was quite disgusting and left a dry feeling inside his mouth.

Suddenly, he wondered what he did in this future. It was apparent that he was Snape's partner in the Potions business, but surely that wasn't all he did? Harry had always expected to end up in Quidditch or as an Auror or something like that. Not in Potions. For Merlin's sake, he wasn't even good at Potions.

"Least I seem to have money," he said morosely, and cringed at how sad and pathetic he sounded. His voice seemed to echo around the empty apartment. It had been so long since he had been alone like this. For almost as long as he could remember, he'd always had Dudley tormenting him. Then he had Hogwarts where Ron was almost invariably by his side. But now... all his friends seemed to have moved on. It had been ten years after all.

With a sigh, Harry stretched out on the couch and yawned. He could worry about all that stuff later. Right now, the wine seemed to be making him rather sleepy.

-***-

The real estate agent was a rather severe looking woman who reminded him of McGonagall. She even had her hair up in a bun, although her hair was blonde as opposed to grey. "You wish to sell this apartment, Mr Potter?" she asked, sounding faintly incredulous.

"And buy a place out in the countryside," Harry said, swallowing his exasperation. "As soon as possible. I don't care about getting the best price. I just want the apartment off my hands."

"It is a lovely apartment. Gorgeous view," she said doubtfully. "But are you sure, Mr Potter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Mrs Carlyle, I don't care what you read in _The Daily Prophet_ or whatever rag you read. Snape and I are separated."

Harry was horrified when a misty expression crossed her eyes. "What if you get your memory back?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," Harry said, through gritted teeth. He forced a smile. It was bad enough that he had to deal with selling an apartment, when he had no idea what the market value for apartments was. It was ridiculous. Even though everybody else seemed to think he was twenty-seven, in his own mind, he was still seventeen. And it seemed like even after ten years, people he didn't know still felt like they had a right to inquire into his personal life.

She still looked doubtful, but she crossed the floor to peer into the kitchens. "Are these real marble benchtops?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably." Everything in the apartment definitely looked expensive.

"Well, Mr Potter, assuming you don't change your mind..."

"I won't," Harry said curtly.

"... then I have no doubt I will have found a buyer for you within a few weeks."

"And about the house in the country?"

She tucked a quill behind her ear. "I believe I have the perfect house that is already on the market."

"Good," Harry said shortly. "Thank you for coming." He walked over to the door and held it open for her. He watched as she left and then he closed the door, slumping against the wall beside it. It felt remarkably like a chapter of his life closing.

-***-

There was a knock on his door. Harry stood up from his packing and walked over to the door. Opening it, he saw Hermione standing there. "You put the apartment on the market?" she asked abruptly, pushing past him. He could see her eyes immediately take in the empty bookcases and tables. "But why?"

"This isn't my home," Harry said quietly as he headed back into the bedroom where he was packing. She followed him and stood at his bedroom door.

Hermione looked sadly at him. "But your memory could return," she said. "It's only been a few weeks."

Harry shrugged. "I don't need to be here for it to return."

"But you could regret it," she insisted. "I know Severus has already left, but if you two got your memory back..." She trailed off.

Harry shook his head. He knew where she was going with that. "We're not getting back together, Hermione," he said quietly.

"But you two are good together," Hermione pleaded. "I know you don't think so now, but when your memory comes back, you'll know it."

Harry ignored her and continued to stuff clothes into his bags. He had seemed to accumulate a remarkable amount of clothing over the past ten years. There were items in his wardrobe that he wasn't even sure that he knew the name of. There also seemed to be a horrifying amount of Potions-making equipment even though Snape had already taken half.

Hermione picked up a cauldron that seemed to be made of pure gold. "Aren't you taking this?" she asked.

Harry stared. "Why?" He was honestly thinking of leaving most of the Potions equipment behind and sending an owl to Snape to see if he wanted it.

"Ron and I gave it to you," she said, with a catch in her voice. "Last year, when we were still together."

"Oh," Harry said. He thought that he probably should say more, but he had only just learned over the past few days he had learned that his best friends had dated for almost five years, were married for about four years and had recently gotten divorced. He found it difficult to muster up more than a slight sympathy for the divorce, especially since he didn't even know the reasons. "I'm sorry," he said finally.

Hermione waved her hand. There were tears in her eyes, which she wiped away. "You don't have to say anything, Harry. You were there for me the entire time last year we were having problems. You were there when I found out that Ron was dating Pansy Parkinson." There was an unpleasant curl to her lip as she said the other woman's name.

Harry blinked. "Parkinson?"

"It's a long story," Hermione said. "You don't want to hear it now." There was a note of finality in her voice.

"If you're sure," Harry said. He walked over and put a hand on her arm. "You know that I'll always be here for you."

Hermione laughed softly. "You'll be here for me from afar anyway," she said.

Harry quirked a smile. "I just can't stay here. Snape is moving to Hogwarts. We're going to sell the apartment. I know that to you and everybody else, we've been in this happy relationship, but ... I just don't feel it."

"I suppose so," Hermione said sadly. "But you two always seemed so happy together. You worked together on Potions, did you know?"

Harry thought he could remember somebody mentioning something about that. "This is all too strange," he said with a sigh.

"I wish you would stay," Hermione said. "But I understand."

Harry zipped up his suitcase and stared at it. Somehow, it felt so strange. He still felt like he was seventeen and at Hogwarts. It didn't feel right that he was packing and leaving his apartment, one that he had apparently lived in with Snape for over five years.

-***-

The house the real estate agent had found for him was really more of a cottage, but Harry put a deposit down on it almost immediately. It was a charming cottage. It had fewer rooms than the apartment he had shared with Snape, but it seemed perfect for him. His half of the furniture looked awkward in the cottage, so Harry vowed to go down to the local village to exchange it for more appropriate furniture as soon as he could.

Harry looked around the cottage with satisfaction. He had examined his bank accounts. He had more than enough money to stay here and do nothing for the rest of his life. He wasn't planning on doing that, but he thought that staying here for the next few years couldn't hurt. They had managed to narrow down the reason for his and Snape's memory loss. It was apparently caused by the potion that was in one of their cauldrons. The Ministry's finest experts agreed that it was probably a memory potion, but they couldn't ascertain what kind of memory potion it was. There weren't any notes regarding the potion that they could find and they weren't even sure if it was an accident or sabotage.

Harry was just sick of being in London and waiting for them to come up with a solution. He was also sick of everybody he knew inquiring about his relationship with Snape. It was better here, in his little cottage, he decided.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Notes:** A couple of the scenes below are explicit; however, I've edited them down to comply with the rules here. *g* They're not hugely different to the original scenes though, I don't think.

**Footfalls in the memory: Part II**

**Three Months Later**

Harry opened the door and stared. Draco Malfoy was standing on the doorstep. "What on earth are you doing here?" he demanded. It had been over two months since anybody had come to bother him. His birthday had passed and nobody had even bothered to say anything. A sudden thought occurred to him. "Don't tell me that we're friends?" Given what had happened, he would believe anything.

Draco laughed. "Of course not, Potter. But we do work together at times."

"Uh huh," Harry said, leaning up against his doorframe, keeping the door open only just enough to stand in the opening. "What are you doing here?"

Draco hesitated. "Are you going to invite me inside?"

"No," Harry said flatly. He thought that Draco was being a bit presumptuous especially since he had just said that they weren't friends.

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "A bit rude, aren't you, Potter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Are you getting your memory back?" Draco asked abruptly.

Harry snorted. "You came all the way out here after all this time to ask me that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Answer the question," Draco said tightly.

Harry stared. There was a curious note of what seemed like worry in the other man's voice. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. I would have told Hermione."

To his surprise, Draco slumped against his doorframe. "Fuck," he muttered. "I didn't think so, but I thought I'd give it a try. Thanks anyway, Potter." Harry watched with widened eyes, as Draco turned to go.

"Wait," Harry said impulsively and reached out to grab Draco's arm. He almost immediately regretted his hasty action and dropped his hand. "Why'd you want to know?"

Draco stared at him. "Severus's sick. He's losing his short-term memory," he finally said. "I was hoping that if you had regained your memories, then you might remember what the original potion was that caused all of this."

-***-

"You are an imbecile," Snape snapped as Draco walked into the room with Harry behind him. "I told you not to get him."

To Harry's surprise, Draco just rolled his eyes and walked over to place a gentle hand on Snape's shoulder. "Severus has been losing his memories," he said quietly.

Snape sneered. "That might be, but we don't need his help!"

"We do," Draco said curtly, "if this has anything to do with the memory loss that affected both of you, then he might be able to help."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Potter was the one who did not keep adequate notes regarding the potion," he said acidly. "Accident or sabotage, if we had comprehensive notes then I would have been able to recreate the potion." His fingers clenched until his knuckles were white. "And I would be able to remember what I had this morning for breakfast."

Harry stared. "How'd you know it was that potion?" he protested. "I've been fine."

"Oh?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "Then why is it that Hermione says that you keep on saying that you've forgotten appointments."

"What?" Harry said, frowning. "I haven't spoken to Hermione in months! She came over when I first moved into the cottage, but I haven't seen her since." It was part of the reason why he found the cottage so relaxing. He was away from everything that reminded him of his former life, away from everything that reminded him of the memory loss.

"Oh stop lying, Potter," Draco said, sounding exasperated. "I know you spoke to her last week. She's been worried about you, you know. You keep on saying that you'll call her back but then you never do. You've become a complete hermit!"

"You're the one who's lying," Harry said angrily. He spun around and walked towards the door. "I'm completely fine!" Neither Snape nor Draco did anything to stop him as he stormed out of the front door of Malfoy Manor. Once outside, Harry slumped against the stone walls and blinked at the bright sunshine. It was preposterous that he could have been losing his memory, wasn't it?

Of course it was, Harry reassured himself, but the niggling thought still remained. After all, he had spent most of the last three months alone, catching up on what had happened over the past ten years. What he had learned astounded him. How on earth could anybody have believed that he would live with and marry the person who killed Dumbledore? Surely Snape had him under a spell or something. Harry was repulsed by the very thought that he had sex with the man who had murdered Dumbledore in cold blood.

All the reading meant that Harry had very little time to see his friends. He'd spent most of the three months indoors either reading old editions of the Prophet or Muggle newspapers. He had been slightly annoyed but mostly relieved when Hermione had stopped calling and sending owls.

But now, according to Draco, she had never stopped trying to contact him.

Harry pursed his lips. It was really very simple. He would talk to Hermione and she would straighten out the entire mess. Draco was lying; he had to be. Surely, Snape's short term memory loss had nothing to do with their long-term memory loss.

-***-

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she pulled open the door to her apartment. "It's so wonderful to see you." She enveloped him in a quick hug and he could smell her sweet floral perfume. "Why didn't you call or owl to say that you were coming?"

"It's just a quick visit," Harry said, forcing a smile. "Long time no see, eh?" he added casually.

She laughed as she pulled him into her apartment. "Sit down. I'll go get us a drink. I keep on trying to get you out to London to catch up. Ron even owled me last week asking when you were going to be down. He wants to see you." Her expression stiffened for a second before relaxing again.

"Oh," Harry said. "Er. So when was the last time that we talked?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked over to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Bending over, she grabbed a couple of soft drinks and walked back over to where Harry was perched gingerly on the edge of one of the couches. "Your memory's terrible nowadays. You keep on forgetting to call me back, even when you promise that you will."

"When did we last talk?" Harry pressed.

She stared at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Earlier this week. Monday, I think. Or it might have been Tuesday."

Harry was beginning to get a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. It couldn't be, it really couldn't. He remembered very clearly that the last time he had spoken to her was over two months ago.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked, with a frown.

"Yeah," Harry said after a pause. "I'm fine." He stood up. "I have to go though. Sorry." He really needed to get back to Malfoy Manor to talk to Snape and Draco. Against all odds, it seemed like they were right. He was losing his short term memory, just like Snape.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked again. "You look like you've just seen a ghost or something."

Harry laughed slightly. "I wouldn't mind seeing Nearly-Headless Nick again."

Hermione leaned over and punched him on the arm. "You know what I mean," she scolded. "Promise me you'll keep in contact this time."

"I'll try," Harry said, biting his lip. He knew he really couldn't promise more than that. From the look on Hermione's face, she expected him to say something more. "I'll see you again soon, I promise. We'll have dinner. Perhaps at Lovegood Emporium again?"

Hermione brightened slightly. "They do wonderful dinners. And Luna mentioned that she'd love to see you again."

-***-

Draco opened the door and smirked. "I see that you're back, Potter. I take it that you paid Hermione a visit."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He had no idea that he was so transparent. How on earth did Draco know that he paid Hermione a visit.

"Relax, Potter," Draco said, a small smile crossing his face. Harry was surprised that it didn't seem malicious. "Why else would you be back? You were rather adamant in your denials regarding the short-term memory loss."

Harry considered the point. It made sense. "Can I come in?" he asked reluctantly. He felt rather awkward standing in the doorway of the imposing Gregorian manor.

After a pause, Draco held the door open for him. "Wipe your feet before you come in. I wouldn't want you tracking dirt again onto my Persian rugs."

"Again?" Harry repeated. He gave his feet a quick scrape on the doormat. As far as he knew, he hadn't tracked dirt on Draco's precious Persian carpets earlier that day.

To his surprise, an almost wistful smile crossed Draco's face. "You and Severus came here one night after horse riding through the countryside. You both had muddy boots. Severus was considerate enough to spell most of the mud off his boots and wipe the rest off, but you just walked right in."

Harry raised an eyebrow. It was beginning to sound more and more like Draco wasn't quite telling the truth when he said that he and Harry weren't friends. At the very least, Snape and Draco seemed close and Draco seemed to have tolerated Harry. "Well my shoes are clean this time," he said finally.

"Good," Draco said and began to walk off. "Close the door behind you and follow me."

For the second time that day, Harry found himself walking along the twisting winding corridors of Malfoy Manor. There were pictures of Malfoy ancestors hanging on the walls, all with their customary smirks. Harry stuck his tongue out at a picture of Lucius Malfoy, who looked surprised and gave him a small wave. "Do I come here often?" Harry asked.

"Why do you ask?" Draco answered.

"Just wondering," Harry said non-committal. He couldn't help but think that the picture of Lucius seemed overly friendly, especially since his past relations with the man.

They entered the small laboratory where Snape looked up from the cauldron he was hunched over. "You again," he said and turned back to his work.

"Yes, me," Harry said with irritation.

Snape sneered. "So I presume you've established that you're also suffering from memory loss."

Harry didn't even bother to answer that. As Draco had said, it was probably really obvious why he was back. "We can fix this, right?" he asked. "I don't like missing my appointments." Harry wondered how many appointments he had managed to miss over the past few months.

Snape looked up from the cauldron. His eyes were dark, almost black and his hair hung lank around his face from the cauldron fumes. Harry wondered why on earth he would have gotten married to this man. Even if he were gay, Harry could think of hundreds of better looking blokes. "I told you he was going to be of no help," Snape said, looking at Draco.

"What?" Harry snapped. He felt like the other two men were having some sort of secret conversation that he wasn't privy to.

Snape turned to him. "If we don't find a way to reverse this latest development, the loss of a couple of appointments are the least of our worries," he said, spitting out each syllable as if it was poison. "We will slowly lose all our memories. Every iota that makes you Harry Potter and me Severus Snape. It'll be gone."

Harry gulped. That sounded serious. Very serious. "Have you told Hermione? The Ministry? St Mungo's?" He rattled off a couple more wizarding institutions he knew of.

"No, of course not," Snape said acidly, "we preferred to work on this ourselves until I became a gibbering vegetable."

"What Severus means to say is," Draco interrupted, "is that he has been to St Mungo's and they have no idea what is happening. Since you're here, you should come in tomorrow morning for tests along with Severus. St Mungo's has both of your records."

Harry spluttered. "So why didn't somebody tell me something?"

"Maybe they did," Draco suggested quietly. "Your medical records are sealed, of course, so the Ministry wouldn't have access, but isn't it possible that staff from St Mungo's might have called you about it and asked you to come in for tests?"

A shiver slid down Harry's spine. It was a creepy feeling that he could have been told certain information but forgotten about it. "You'd think that they would have better ways of informing somebody who might be suffering from short term memory loss," he grumbled.

To Harry's surprise, a ghost of a smile crossed Snape' s face. "We were only positive about the memory loss a few days back," he said.

"So," Harry said gesturing towards the cauldron that Snape was standing over. "What are you trying to do?'

"Re-creating the original potion," Draco said hastily before Snape could reply nastily. "The staff at St Mungo's think that they might be able to forge an antidote from a fresh batch of the original potion."

"Oh," Harry said. He supposed that made sense. "Is there anything I can do?" he ventured. He didn't think there was, but he supposed that he should ask.

To his surprise, Draco came over and handed him a couple of notebooks covered in scribbles. "We were able to find these notes. It seems to be your handwriting, but we're having trouble deciphering it."

Harry peered down at the illegible writing. He suspected that he was going to have a hard time reading it as well. It seemed as though his writing had gotten worse in ten years, not better. "I'll try," he said.

"You'd better do better than that," Snape called out from across the room, his voice acerbic. "And soon, otherwise, in a few weeks to a few months, you won't have the faculties to read it."

Harry opened his mouth to reply but decided to close it again without saying anything. Snape really hadn't gotten any better at his encouraging statements since Hogwarts. In fact, Harry suspected that he had gotten worse. With a sigh, he bent over his notebooks and squinted at the handwriting.

-***-

_A long thin finger ran down his back and Harry shivered. The touch seemed to go straight to his groin, making him harder than ever. "Like that?" a voice murmured into his ear. Harry nodded and moaned as the hand inched downwards and began to unzip his pants. Harry half-turned around and reached up to kiss the figure whose face was still obscured by shadow._

_The person then knelt down in front of him. He looked down and could only see long silky dark hair. The person's mouth enveloped his cock and Harry gasped, his fingers digging into the person's shoulders. The person looked up at him and chuckled, the dark eyes glittering with amusement and it was with horror that Harry realised he recognised who it was... _

Harry gasped and opened his eyes. His heart was pounding and when he reached up to feel his shirt, it was soaked in sweat. With embarrassment, he extracted his other hand from his boxer shorts, where his cock was still mostly hard. He had obviously been stroking himself in his sleep and there was an uncomfortably wet patch in the front of his boxers.

And Snape was the cause.

Harry felt nauseated at the thought. It wasn't enough that apparently he'd had a relationship with Snape for the past ten years, but now he had to dream about the man as well? And did Snape have to be so ... damn hot in the dream? Harry was horrified to find himself hardening again at the memory of the dream.

It had felt so real in a way that his wet dreams before this hadn't. Harry frowned. He seemed to remember Hermione lecturing Ron one morning about wet dreams and how they generally only lasted during a guy's adolescence. It was strange for him to be having one now.

With a sigh, Harry sat up. He had to change his boxers.

-***-

"I think I've copied out most of this," Harry said, walking over to Snape. He held the notebooks out to Snape, but the other man never looked away from his cauldron. "I'll just leave them here, shall I?" When Snape didn't reply, Harry walked away back to his table. Draco had allowed them to work in his private laboratory which was surprisingly well-equipped. Harry suspected that Snape wouldn't have worked in any other sort of laboratory. Draco was away most of the time, so Harry found himself left alone with Snape.

With a sigh, Harry flipped the next notebook open. He had only just put quill to parchment again when Snape made a disbelieving sound. "You're trying to tell me that this was all you were capable of deciphering?"

"Hey!" Harry protested as he pushed back his chair and walked back across the room again to stand next to Snape. "Some of it seems to be in some sort of code." He pointed to a couple of symbols on his copied out page.

Snape snorted and gestured to the chair next to him. "Sit down, Potter. Stop hovering."

Awkwardly, Harry sat down. "See," he pointed out. "I seem to have used some sort of acronym or abbreviation there. And some sort of symbol there. I guess I understood what these meant before I lost my memory but I haven't a clue now." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Are they some sort of potions shorthand?"

"Unfortunately no," Snape said, sounding distant as he looked over both copies of the notes. "They look similar in places, but it doesn't match any code I know of."

"I guess we came up with our own code, eh?"

"I suppose," Snape said.

It was just then that Harry realised that Snape hadn't made a snide comment in the last few minutes. It actually felt rather companionable sitting here side by side. Suddenly, Harry thought of his dream and blushed. He looked down at Snape's fingers and realised how remarkably detailed his dream was. The same stains that were currently on Snape's fingers appeared in the dream.

"Why are you staring at my fingers, Potter?"

Harry was jerked out of his thoughts by Snape's acerbic tone. "I'm not," he lied. "I'm just looking at the table. I'd better go back over and translate the other notebook." Without another look at Snape, he pushed his chair back and walked away.

-***-

Harry felt as though ghostly footsteps were walking over his spine. He had a tingling feeling that went all the way down his vertebrae. As he watched Snape leaning over his cauldron trying to re-create the potion, an image kept on flashing into his mind. He kept on feeling like he could see another image of Snape superimposed over the man currently standing in front of him. The superimposed image had shorter, less-greasy hair and was smiling. He seemed to be trying to tell Harry something.

Harry took a step closer and tried to concentrate on the lips. What was the ghostly Snape trying to tell him?

"What are you doing?"Snape asked irritably as Harry bumped into the workbench.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, flushing. He wondered if he should tell Snape about the images he had been seeing, but he suspected the other man would just sneer at him and call him crazy. "How's the potion going?"

"It's not," Snape snapped. "Your notes are pathetic. Now that I can read them, I realise that you barely managed to document any of the mistakes you made during the creation of the original potion!"

"So, not well, I take it," Harry said.

Snape pointed one long finger towards a stool in the corner. "Sit," he ordered. "It would be faster if you didn't bother me."

-***-

Snape's eyes gleamed. He held up a vial of the potion in his gloved hands. Harry couldn't tell his expression from behind the mask he wore, but he suspected that it would be less dour than his expression for the past few days. "Got it!" he announced.

Harry could feel a surge of hope. Over the past few days, he had felt his short-term memory slipping away. He would walk out of the room to make a cup of tea and when he came back, he would realise that the cup of tea already sat on his desk. A few times, he would sit up bolt upright in bed in the middle of the night and not realise where he was. He had taken to carrying around a notebook in which to write down everything, otherwise, he knew he would forget it. But if Snape had re-created the potion, they could take it to St Mungo's. He had spoken to the staff there who had promised that they would be able to synthesise an antidote for their current memory loss and perhaps even the original memory loss. He beamed up at Snape.

To his surprise, the corners of Snape's eyes crinkled slightly as if he was smiling and there was a look in them that made Harry shiver. Snape took a small step forward and Harry gulped. If this wasn't Snape and if it was a different circumstance, then the look would have been rather familiar.

Abruptly, Snape turned away. "We'll take this into St Mungo's in the morning," he said. "I'll inform Draco. He'll be pleased to hear of the news."

As Snape walked away, Harry stared after him. He couldn't help but feel like he had just missed out on something important.

-***-

"I'm sorry," the doctor said softly. "With a copy of the original potion, we've managed to come up with an antidote to stabilise the memory loss for now, but it seems as though the memories are lost for good. We can't retrieve the short term memories that you lost or the ten years of memories."

Harry could feel his stomach churning with the news. He looked over at Snape whose face was impassive.

"The good news is that none of your synapses have been damaged so you should be able to form new memories normally," the doctor continued. He paused a second. "I'm going to give both of you some time alone to process this information. If you need me, just call."

Harry could see Snape's mouth open, but the doctor left the room before he could say anything. "So," Harry said quietly.

"This processing time is unnecessary," Snape said sharply.

Harry nodded. "I didn't want the memories back anyway," he said and frowned. He could still remember some of the visions of Snape that he had gotten in the past few days. When he mentioned them to the doctor, Snape hadn't said anything, but there had been a flicker in his eyes. The visions had seemed so real. It had felt like Snape was actually kissing him, a toe-curling kiss that made Harry moan with desire. It had felt like Snape's fingers were really entwined in his own as they watched a Muggle horror movie. It had felt like they were actually working together on potions.

"For once, I am in complete agreement with you, Potter," Snape said.

Harry bit his lip. "Did you get any visions?" he asked.

"Visions?" Snape repeated, his face impassive.

"What I was telling the doctor about earlier," Harry elaborated. "I had visions of what seemed like us."

"I assure you, Potter," Snape retorted, "that nothing of the sort happened to me."

"Oh," Harry answered. He wondered if that meant that he was going crazy. The visions had seemed so real and they had started about the time he had started realising the memory loss. It wasn't as though he wanted them to be true.

-***-

Harry would have never believed it, but he was beginning to find it awkward to be around Ron. It wasn't as though they had a fight or anything. Harry would have preferred that, because from what he remembered of Ron, they had fights all the time. But it had been ten years and Harry was beginning to realise that the Ron he remembered and the Ron that sat across the table from him right now were two completely different people.

It wasn't just that Ron was currently dating Pansy Parkinson. Harry could accept that. Ron had introduced them last time they had gone out and Harry was surprised to find that Pansy was a nice person, if a bit loud and boisterous at times. Harry found that he could talk to her easily. However, Harry was surprised to find that he had very little to say to Ron once they got past the small talk. As soon as Ron had explained what had happened in his life in the past ten years, the table had fallen silent. Harry had chalked it up to a bad night, but now, it was happening again.

"So," Harry said, feeling awkward. Ron was supposed to be his best friend. They were supposed to be able to carry on an effortless conversation. "Do you still support the Chudley Cannons?"

Ron shrugged. "I haven't had much time for Quidditch lately. Pansy loves it though."

Harry wracked his mind for something else to say. According to Ron, they were still good friends in the present so he must have had something to talk to Ron about, but whenever Ron went on about the latest crime figures, Harry felt his mind go to sleep. For all that he despised Snape, at least when Snape went on about potions, it was interesting. It was possibly because Harry was still on edge, waiting for a "Ten points from Gryffindor!" but at least he wasn't yawning.

"Are you and Severus any closer to recreating the potion?" Ron asked, sounding equally awkward to Harry's ears.

Harry shook his head. "Why does everybody call him Severus?" he complained.

Ron stared at him. When Ron replied, Harry thought his voice sounded oddly condescending. "Because we're all adults and we're capable of having civil conversations together using our given names? You have been together with him for almost a decade. I have to admit that while I didn't like it much at first, we all get along fine now."

"I guess," Harry muttered. Everything just seemed so different now.

"Cheer up," Ron said, patting him on the shoulder. Harry was oddly reminded of Molly Weasley when he did that.

Harry took another swig of his beer and forced a smile.

-***-

The door opened slowly and Snape looked out. Harry couldn't help noticing that in the dim lighting, Snape's nose looked even more hooked than usual and he looked remarkably bat-like. It made the visions he had been experiencing even more realistic. Harry was beginning to suspect that they were flashbacks of the life he'd once had with Snape. They were memories, latent memories in his mind.

"Potter," Snape said acerbically, "what are you doing here? I believe we had an agreement."

Harry remembered that agreement. He had agreed never to see Snape again after the appointment at St Mungo's. And he had managed to keep that agreement for a few days. He would have kept it longer except he was beginning to get the flashback visions with more frequency now. They didn't even seem to be triggered by anything. They just appeared haphazardly in his mind. "When did I get my Potions Mastery?" he demanded.

Snape sneered at him. "You never got that," he said.

"Ah!" Harry said, pointing a finger at Snape. "How would you know that if you weren't getting the same visions as me?"

Snape lifted an eyebrow and just stared at him. "When have I ever shown any faith in your ability as a potions student? It is relieving that nobody had given you Potions Mastery. I would be astounded that any person could be that imbecilic."

Harry couldn't help but realise that what Snape said made sense, unfortunately. "I think the visions are memories," he said bluntly. "I'm remembering us. Our life together."

Snape just stared at him.

"Fine," Harry said curtly. "If you don't believe me. You have a mole..." he hesitated slightly before continuing, "right next to your penis. On the right. It's hidden by the hair, but it's there."

Snape's mouth dropped open.

"Your penis..." Harry would have continued if Snape hadn't held up his hand.

"I believe you, Potter," Snape said quietly.

Harry narrowed his eyes. That seemed remarkably fast. In fact, it was definitely remarkably fast. He had an entire list of Snape's physical traits in his mind from the visions that he had been prepared to go through, but Snape apparently didn't need to hear them. "You are getting the visions," he said abruptly. "You lied!"

From the expression on Snape's face, Harry knew he was correct. "If you can call them visions," Snape muttered. He held the door open. "I suggest we have the rest of the conversation inside my apartment."

As Harry stepped inside the apartment, he realised that Snape had most likely done most of the decorating of their apartment. In fact, as he looked around, he thought he could recognise some of the paintings and sculptures. "Nice place," he said neutrally. "Why did you lie about the visions?"

Snape pursed his lips. "I had hoped they would go away," he said stiffly. "They were... uncomfortable."

Harry suddenly had a remarkably vivid memory of his last vision. He could almost see Snape squirming on the couch as he licked the length of Snape's cock. His mouth suddenly went dry and Harry licked his lips. He was almost surprised when they didn't taste salty. "This could be another side-effect of the memory potion," he said.

"I'm almost positive that it is."

Harry glared at him. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

"If I'm correct, which I know I am, then the memories are from our sub-conscious. Our memories of the past ten years are most likely still intact in there, preserved. These memories are leaking through into our conscious mind through triggers. Given time, the memory leakage will subside," Snape said matter-of-factly. "It's likely to restore part of our memories, but not the entirety."

"Don't you want your memories back?" Harry said abruptly.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You would want to be married to me?"

"No!" Harry said, ignoring the mental picture in his mind that popped up of Snape fucking him into their bed. From the mistletoe tied above their bedroom door, Harry surmised that it was some memory of a past Christmas together. "But," he said quietly. "I've been thinking and I want my memories back."

Snape sighed, sounding tired all of a sudden. "Even if that were possible, Potter. What makes you think that I would acquiesce to that request?"

Harry shrugged. He had been giving this a lot of thought over the past few days. "We created a lot of potions over the past ten years together. We still have patents on most of them. I know you created meticulous records, but I think we both know that my records were less than adequate. You could spend the next ten years deciphering my notes, or we can work on getting our memories back and then you could continue creating the potions and earning money." A sudden inspiration hit him. "For the Potions company you always wanted to start up."

Snape stared at him, his face blank.

"Don't you want to know what you've been doing for the past ten years?" Harry asked. "I know I do. It... it feels like I know nothing about this wizarding world. All my friends have moved on with their lives. Did you know Ron and Hermione divorced? Ron's dating Pansy Parkinson of all people. Everybody's grown up and they're all different."

Snape folded his lips tightly but didn't say anything.

"You can't be happy not knowing," Harry said, mentally crossing his fingers that he was right.

"A month," Snape said abruptly. "I'm not spending the rest of my life on this foolish endeavour."

Harry could feel a surge of hope. He knew they could solve it together. Impulsively, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Snape, who stiffened. Immediately, Harry stepped backwards. He could feel his entire face flushing. "I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "I'm going to leave now."

Snape said nothing as Harry walked away.

-***-

The visions were coming more frequently now and most of them made Harry blush. As his mind settled back onto the present, Harry realised that he was incredibly horny. He reached down to wrap his fingers around his cock. The idea that he was getting off on the memories of fucking Snape was so wrong, but there was something so right about the way Snape kissed him long and hard afterwards, his mouth tasting of Harry and the way Snape's fingers always seemed to find the right spots inside him and the way Snape's made him scream...

Harry gasped and bucked his hips as he shuddered and came onto the sheets. As soon as his head cleared, Harry sat up and stared at the mess he had made. He suspected that Draco wasn't going to be particularly happy if Harry left the sheets like that. A memory suddenly flashed into his mind of himself laughingly pointing at another set of similarly soiled sheets.

"_Scourgify_," Harry said tentatively and was relieved to see the stain vanish. Standing up, Harry dressed without looking into the mirror. He didn't want to get yet another vision of Snape fucking him, or sucking him off. He felt embarrassed enough about the matter already.

-***-

"How would you propose that we begin, Potter?" Snape said smoothly, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair. "Potter?"

Harry jumped slightly.

"This was your idea, Potter," Snape snapped. "The least you could do is pay attention."

Harry felt his face flushing. He seemed to be getting more and more distracted around Snape nowadays. The visions seemed to be superimposing themselves on reality. They still had no context, but Harry was beginning to feel some of the accompanying emotions. Or least that was what he told himself as he wanked off to the idea of Snape sucking him off. "Sorry," he muttered.

Snape stared expectantly at him. "How do you plan on getting these memories back?"

Harry had to admit that he had absolutely no idea. He had honestly been hoping that Snape would think of something.

His face must have said as much because Snape threw his hands up. "You don't have any idea, do you, Potter?" He sneered.

"The potion must have gone wrong somehow," Harry said slowly.

"Brilliant deduction," Snape said sarcastically.

"But it didn't cause memory loss again when we made it again."

"Very astute observation," Snape muttered.

Harry was beginning to get rather fed up of Snape's comments. He walked over to where the other man was sitting. "Stop making those snide comments," he said. "They're not helping."

Snape stared at him, his eyes dark and Harry shivered. "This entire endeavour is an exercise in futility," Snape told him coldly. "Those visions are triggered by familiar events. If we stay away from each other, they will subside."

Harry surprised himself by slamming his fist onto the table. He bit the side of his cheek to stop himself from wincing. The motion hurt more than he wanted to admit. "I want my memories back," he said firmly. "You agreed to help me. So help." He leaned and narrowed his eyes.

To Harry's surprise, Snape seemed to shudder slightly and a strange look passed through his eyes.

"You're feeling it as well, aren't you?" Harry said. He couldn't believe that he didn't realise it before. The emotions he had been feeling recently towards Snape were linked to the visions and since Snape had been having the visions as well, it made sense that Snape would be feeling something similar.

Snape's eyes took on a shuttered expression. "Feeling what?" he said, guardedly.

Harry gestured around. "This... thing between us."

Snape sneered. "How many times do I need to tell you, Potter? There is nothing between us."

Harry could feel something snap within him. He could see Snape half-stand and in one quick motion, he kicked away Snape's chair. "Don't say you don't feel it," Harry accused as he took another step forward. He could see Snape shudder slightly and take a step backwards, right into the wall. "This isn't one-sided. You know it isn't."

"You're treading on dangerous ground here, Potter," Snape said softly. "I don't care what mistakes we've made in the past. I will not be making them again. We're not married, Potter. I'm not the man in your visions."

"But you were," Harry insisted. "That's the point. You're getting the visions too, damn it. You admitted it. You know how we were together."

Snape leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "This is precisely why I did not wish to begin this entire experiment in getting our memories back," he snapped. "It was an error of judgement on my behalf the first time and I'm glad I'm getting an opportunity to rectify it." His lip curled. "Regardless of how good the sex was, Potter, we were never meant to be together."

"Ah!" Harry pounced on the last sentence. "You admit that the sex was good."

Snape narrowed his eyes. Almost faster than Harry could see, Snape had grabbed his arm and pulled him in. Snape then took a step sideways so that now Harry was up against the wall and Snape was hovering over him. In less than a second, their positions were swapped. Harry gulped. "Would you like to recreate the memories, Potter," Snape said silkily, his breath hot on Harry's face. "I do like men, after all and you, Potter, aren't so unattractive.

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "I want my memories back," he said evenly. He fought to keep his breathing even as Snape leaned over him and stared into his eyes. Then almost immediately, Snape stepped backwards, his own breathing ragged.

"I keep my promises," Snape said blandly. "I said I would give you a month. It's been two days. We still have twenty-eight days left." With that, he turned away, leaving Harry feeling confused.

-***-

"I'm not lying," Harry said angrily. "I think the visions are telling me something."

Snape pursed his lips. "Don't be ridiculous, Potter. Your visions are a product of an overly libidinous teenage mind that's stuck in a man's body."

Harry rolled his eyes. "They're not," he insisted. "They're happening for a reason."

"So you are now an expert in Divination?" Snape asked, smirking. "Will you start reading the tea leaves every morning?"

Harry took a deep breath. He had an idea and it made sense. He just wasn't sure how Snape was going to react to the concept.

"Spit it out, Potter," Snape said wearily.

Harry's head snapped up and he stared at Snape. "What do you mean?" he said. It was creepy the way Snape sometimes managed to anticipate what he was about to say before he said it. "I wasn't about to say anything."

Snape just stared silently at him.

"Well," Harry said slowly. "You know how I said a few days ago that these visions were trying to tell us something. You said that the visions came from our subconscious and came out because of a trigger." Snape raised an eyebrow so Harry hurried on. "What if," he said quickly, "we just need a strong trigger for the memories? What if they're in our minds, but behind some sort of barrier?"

To his surprise, Snape actually seemed to be considering the idea. "An intriguing notion," he said slowly. "But deeply flawed," he added.

"Why?" Harry demanded.

"How would you propose that we trigger these memories to emerge?"

Harry gulped. This was the bit that he was apprehensive about. He suspected that Snape was going to really dislike what he was about to say next. "We need to use Legilimency."

Snape stared at him. "I already used Legilimency on Granger," he started to say before he stopped. Harry suspected the idea he had was beginning to dawn on Snape. "No," Snape said tightly. "I will not give you access to my mind."

"You'll have access to my mind as well!" Harry burst out. "If we use Legilimency on each other and attempt to look for the buried memories... that should be enough of a trigger!"

"No," Snape said, with finality. "I would rather never get those ten years of memories back. I will not allow you complete access to my memories."

"But you'll be able to see mine as well!" Harry said again. "It's the only way and you said that if we came up with a solution then you'd try it with me."

Snape's upper lip curled. "This is a hunch, Potter. Not a solution. It has never been tested. You don't know if it'll work."

"That's because this situation hasn't ever happened before!" Harry burst out. "We're the first ones. I know this'll work. I can feel it."

Snape sneered at him. "Perhaps you should go into Divination, Potter. I suspect you would be better at that than Potions. It was because of you that this happened in the first place."

"You don't know that!" Harry said. "In fact, you don't know anything about the potion other than the fact it is supposed to work as a memory enhancer. You don't know why we were making it in the first place or why it affected us when the cauldron exploded. It didn't cause the memory loss again when we re-made it for St Mungo's so obviously the recipe is fine. Maybe you made the mistake!"

"I do not make mistakes," Snape said harshly.

"Oh really," Harry snapped. "How about joining Voldemort?" He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Snape's eyes glittered as he stepped forward. "I'm sorry," Harry said quickly. "I didn't mean..."

"Oh yes you did," Snape hissed. "That's what you see when you look at me. Severus Snape, former Death Eater. Man who murdered Albus Dumbledore. I can see it in your eyes, Potter. That sanctimonious light in your eyes tells me everything."

Harry swallowed. As much as he hated to admit it, Snape was partially right. Even though Hermione had explained it, a part of him still hated Snape for murdering Dumbledore. He knew that it was necessary and on Dumbledore's orders. It was a very small part of him, but it still existed. Snape had killed the man who had helped take Harry out from under the wing of his aunt and uncle. He had killed his own mentor. Harry wondered how the other man could live with the knowledge, even if he didn't have the memory. For the first time, Harry wondered whether it was a good thing getting Snape's memory back, if it meant that the other man would be faced with a lot of undoubtedly horrible memories.

Snape walked to the door of his apartment. "Get out, Potter," he said, sounding tired. "Just get out."

"What?" Harry burst out. "You said that you'd help."

"That was before I heard your harebrained scheme," Snape said acidly. "There is no way I'm letting you inside my mind to read my mind."

"I thought you said that it wasn't mind-reading," Harry said snidely.

Snape's lips pursed tightly. "Get out," he repeated.

"I let you inside my mind," Harry said. "You saw my memories!"

Snape's face closed off and it was only belatedly that Harry remembered that he had also pushed into Snape's mind. A sudden thought occurred to him. He could feel his wand in his back pocket. He could just pull it out and point it at Snape. If his theory worked, then both he and Snape would end up with their memories back. Snape couldn't be mad at him for that, could he? A little voice in the back of Harry's mind told him that, of course, Snape would be furious but he ignored it.

Slowly, surreptitiously, Harry moved his hand towards his back pocket.

Snape's eyes flashed. "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?"

Harry pulled his wand out. "We're going to get our memories back!" he said angrily.

"Don't be foolish, Potter," Snape said in a low voice. "You don't want to do this."

"Yes I do," Harry exclaimed. "How can you live not knowing exactly what you've done for the past ten years? I can't, I won't live like that! I can't talk to any of my friends. I don't even know who I'm close to nowadays. I don't know why we got married. I want to know those things!"

Snape fingered his own wand. "I refuse to let you into my mind," he hissed. In one quick smooth motion, he pulled out his wand.

Almost as if in slow motion, Harry saw Snape draw his wand. He saw Snape's mouth open. Harry quickly lifted his own wand. He had no idea what Snape was about to say but he suspected that it was going to involve his own wand sliding across the room into Snape's fingers. As he saw Snape's mouth begin to form a spell, Harry quickly looked up and met Snape's eyes. He could feel Snape's mind battling against his own, Snape's eyes boring into his and Harry fought back with all of his might.

It was like a tug-of-war and Harry was astonished to find that he seemed to be winning. It was almost as though Snape wasn't trying as hard as he should have tried or that Harry's own powers had grown exponentially beyond what they had been previously. He seemed to be breaking into the barriers of Snape's mind like water flowing over rocks. Memories streamed past him and he felt himself drawn deep into Snape's mind.

At the same time, Harry gasped as he felt Snape moving inside his own mind. _Get out!_ Snape spat at him mentally.

_No_, Harry replied firmly as he dove deeper into Snape's mind. He didn't know what he was looking for but he knew he would know it if he found it.

-***-

It was like a supernova inside both of their minds. Harry could feel himself reeling backwards against the wall. He slumped against the wall. He could feel his head whirling with thoughts and images of what seemed like a lifetime, even though he knew that it was only of the past ten years. It was all rushing back to him now, the memories spinning through his mind like a whirlwind. Unlike the visions he had been having, these memories had context. They had emotions attached to them and Harry gasped from the veritable storm of emotions that streamed through him.

He could remember graduating from Hogwarts. He could remember dating Ginny for six months and how disastrously that had ended up. She had fallen pregnant and had been furious when Harry refused to marry her.

He could remember the first time he began to see Snape in a different light. It was at a Ministry dinner back when Harry was still an Auror. He had ended up sitting next to Snape during one of the dinners and Harry was surprised when Snape had begun to talk to him. He was even more surprised when he found himself interested in what Snape had to say. They had shaken hands after the dinner and Harry could still remember how the handshake had sent tingles through his body.

Harry could remember their first kiss. He had initiated it. He went to Hogwarts and basically cornered Snape in his office and asked where their friendship stood. When Snape didn't respond, Harry had swallowed his fear and stepped up to wrap his arms around Snape.

They moved in together a week later. Harry remembered the reaction of his friends at first. Ron was horrified and had stormed out of their first dinner together, but now even Ron had grown to like and respect Snape. Everybody had been so happy when they'd gotten married and moved into their apartment.

Harry could feel his face pale. He'd sold their apartment. The apartment they bought together. How could he do that? Harry could feel his stomach twist as he suddenly just remembered how he had just forced his way into Snape's mind using Legilimency. Snape had pushed back, but only after Harry had already penetrated his barriers. With effort, Harry pushed himself off the floor and took a couple of unsteady steps towards where Snape sprawled on the ground, looking shell-shocked. "Severus?" he said softly.

Snape looked up. Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't that shuttered expression. It was the same expression Snape had looked at him with for the last few months. "Leave," Snape said slowly.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Harry said. He reached out to touch Snape's hand but the other man flinched away from him. "I wanted our memories back. I wanted us to be together again."

Snape snorted. "No, you didn't," he snapped. "You were being selfish. You wanted your memories back and it didn't matter what I wanted. Now, get out, Harry. Get out of my apartment."

Harry stood up slowly. "I'm sorry, Severus," he said again as he walked towards the door. Opening it, Harry looked back towards Snape who was still lying on the floor. As he closed the door behind him, Harry realised that Snape had called him by his given name. It was obvious that Snape's memories were back as well. The thought didn't make him feel any better.

-***-

"Your memories are back?" Hermione exclaimed. "That's fantastic!"

Harry could see that she was bursting to ask him whether he was back together with Snape. Slowly, Harry shook his head. "I don't think Severus wants to see me again," he said quietly. "I used Legilimency to get our memories back."

Hermione frowned. "I wouldn't have thought that Severus would have agreed to that," she said slowly.

"He didn't," Harry said shortly. He swallowed hard and turned to Hermione. "What have I done? I ... sold our apartment. I deliberately invaded his mind when he asked me not to." Harry bit his lip. He could still remember the last time Snape had kissed him slowly and sweetly. It was just before they had fallen asleep that night after they had made the potion. The following morning, they had woken up without their memories and Snape hadn't kissed him since.

"Go and talk to him, Harry," Hermione suggested quietly. "He's just gone through the exact same thing as you. Remember how you two were back at Hogwarts. You both needled each other constantly. You hated each other. That was your mindset this morning. I'm not saying that you should have done what you did, but from what I remember of both of you... you were a different person back then, Harry. You can't blame yourself!"

"But I do," Harry said morosely. He knew that logically, he now wasn't the same person he was this morning, but he could still remember exactly what he had thought when he dove into Snape's mind. It was wrong and Harry couldn't find a way to justify it to himself.

-***-

Harry stood there, staring at the door to Snape's apartment. He couldn't seem to work up the courage to knock on the door. He wanted to speak to Snape, but he didn't think he could stand it if Snape threw him out of the apartment again. Taking a deep breath and screwing his courage to the sticking point, Harry lifted his hand and knocked rapidly on the door. As his hand slowly came down, Harry crossed the fingers on his other hand.

Harry was beginning to think that Snape wasn't there any more or that he wasn't going to answer, when the door opened. Snape stood there, his face impassive. "What do you want?" he asked curtly.

"Can I come in?" Harry asked quietly. "Please?"

He could tell that Snape wanted to refuse, but the man held the door open instead.

"Thank you," Harry said as he stepped inside. Snape gestured towards the couch so Harry sat down. Snape sat down on the opposite couch.

"What do you want?" Snape asked, sounding tired.

"To apologise," Harry said hesitantly.

"You already did," Snape pointed out. "Was there anything else?"

Harry bit his lip. "I wanted to explain," he said. He could see Snape about to say something so he held his hand up. "Please, let me explain. We're still married. I love you. You know I love you."

"I love you too," Snape said unexpectedly. "But that doesn't excuse what you did yesterday."

Harry took a deep breath. "Do you remember how I was when I was sixteen? Do you remember how I pushed back during the Occlumency lessons and ended up seeing that memory of you and my father?"

Snape nodded. "You were a brat," he said, with a brief smile on his face.

"I know that," Harry said quietly. "I wasn't the same person back then. I'm not the same person I was a few days ago. You know that. You forgave me eventually for that breach during the Occlumency lessons. I'm asking you to forgive me again. I would have never done that if I was myself."

Harry braced himself for an argument. He expected Snape to protest, to say that Harry was always the same person and that Harry had broken his trust and invaded his privacy. What Harry didn't expect was for Snape to sigh and nod. "I know that, Harry," he said.

"What?" Harry blinked. He wasn't sure he had heard it right.  
A wry expression crossed Snape's face. "I know that," he repeated. "I was angry, but once you left, I thought about it and realised the same thing. It doesn't excuse what you did, but as you said... you were a different person."

Harry could feel his spirits lifting. "You mean..." he said, half standing up. "You're not angry?"

Snape had a pensive expression on his face. "I'm still angry," Snape said. "But not at you. I know you were a different person ten years ago. So was I." He stood up and walked over to sit next to Harry. "I'm more forgiving now," he said, with a hint of a smile.

Harry could feel his heart pounding as he felt Snape's arm brush his own. Snape reached over and ran a gentle finger across Harry's cheek. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly slowly, Snape leaned forward. Harry gasped as Snape's lips brushed his own. Snape still tasted the same like unidentifiable potions ingredients and strong soap.

"I'm still sorry," Harry said honestly when they came back for air. He shrugged. "I still feel responsible. Plus, we still don't know what caused the cauldron to explode. I could have made a mistake."

Snape held up a hand. "I love you, Harry," he said quietly. "Don't blame yourself for the accident. I'm not going to lose you over something like this."

Harry couldn't help a huge grin spreading over his face. "I love you, Severus." He shifted forward and insinuated himself into Snape's lap. "It's been over three months," he teased, feeling his cock hardening as he remembered some of the things they had done on this very couch over the years.

Snape rolled his eyes at him. "Insatiable brat," he said, but there was gentle fondness in his words.

-***-

**Epilogue**

The Daily Prophet  
13/12/2020

After years of hard work, Potions Masters Potter and Snape have finally perfected their Memory Erasing potion. A simple potion administered once, even to the worst criminals, can erase anywhere between five years to fifty years of memories. It has been hailed by the Auror Department as the biggest breakthrough since Veritaserum.

"With this," Ron Weasley, of the Auror Department, said, "we will be able to rehabilitate even the worst criminals."

However, there is a warning label to go with this Memory Potion. As our two acclaimed Potions Masters experienced years ago, if this potion is created in anything except a glass cauldron, the cauldron is liable to explode. Given the volatile qualities of the potion, when it is heated, it can be absorbed through the skin.

Members of the Civil Liberties Group have called for a ban on the potion, citing it as a gross infringement of human rights. The Wizengamot is expected to vote on its approval later this week.

_-finis_


End file.
